


The Vatican Coffee House

by nazgularepeopletoo



Category: Angels & Demons (2009), Da Vinci Code Series - Dan Brown
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Aw Chartrand is a sweet child, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Patrick falls and falls HARD, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazgularepeopletoo/pseuds/nazgularepeopletoo
Summary: Patrick McKenna was the manager of The Vatican Coffee House. It was supposed to be edgy, but it was really just embarrassing. One day, a customer comes in, bringing more sass than Patrick can handle.





	1. This Wasn't Supposed To Happen

Patrick McKenna was the manager at The Vatican Coffee House. It was supposed to be edgy, but it was really more embarrassing. He was sure there was probably some law about naming your business after the most important place in the Catholic faith, but they hadn’t been shut down yet. Located on Holworthy St., they were a bit too far out of the way to catch the students from Harvard, . People liked to come in after mass to discuss what they had heard and to gossip. Most of the time Olivetti and Richter were usually working the front with Strauss in the kitchen and Baggia at the counter. Patrick never did much except tend the counter when Baggia was on break or sick. He was really only there because his father was the owner.

                It was on one of those days that Baggia was sick that Robert Langdon came into the coffee shop. Patrick saw him walk past, stop, turn around, stare up at the sign for a good two minutes, before walking through the door with a bewildered look on his face. He approached the counter raising his eyebrows at the strangely named drinks on the menu.

                “Are you serious?” the stranger asked, leaning against the counter.

                “Excuse me? What do you mean?” Patrick didn’t have time for this, he was due for a break and didn’t want to spend twenty minutes with a first time customer. The stranger waved vaguely at the menu above Patrick’s head.

                “The Vatican? This whole… theme you’ve got going here.” Patrick sighed.

                “Do you want something or are you just going to stand there and criticize things all day?” That earned him a raised eyebrow.

                “Aren’t barista’s supposed to be nice to customers? It’s bad for business if you scare them all away.” Patrick felt himself stiffen. He _hated_ being called a barista, though it’s not like it was a bad thing to be. He just… was the manager… who worked the counter sometimes. “But to answer your question, yes, I want something. I’ll just have a regular coffee, black.”

                “Is that all?” Patrick tried to keep the judgment out of his voice, he really did. But the stranger narrowed his eyes.

                “Yes that’s all. I’m tired of the coffee in the lounge, and I’m assuming that yours will be _heavenly_.” That was the last straw. Patrick punched in the order more roughly than he needed to

                “That’ll be $1.50.” The man handed over a couple of bills. He gave the man his change and turned to get the coffee, not seeing him drop the two quarters in the tip jar.

                “Thanks,” the man said once he got his coffee. “Have a nice day, and do try to be nicer to your customers.” With that he left. Patrick shot a glare at Olivetti, who was giggling to himself in the corner. He hoped he never saw that man again.

 

***

 

                The next time the man came in, Baggia was working. Patrick hid in the kitchen, ignoring the amused look that Strauss gave him.

                “What is wrong, Patrick? Is something bothering you?”

                “No, I’m fine, thank you.” He could _feel_ himself pouting. “It’s just that guy…” Strauss followed his vague gesture with his eyes and smiled.

                “Yes? What about him?” The older man’s eyes were bright. Did he think…? Patrick turned bright red.

                “It’s not like that…! At all!! He’s just…” Strauss’ grin was growing wider and Patrick’s cheeks grew hotter. “He’s an _asshole_.”

                “Mmhmm.” was all Strauss said, turning back to his grill to start on an order that had just come in. Patrick huffed in frustration, peeking around the corner to see if the man was still there. It didn’t look like he was. Which was good, because Baggia was on break after he finished up this order. He nodded at the barista (the _real_ barista) and leaned his elbows on the counter. It was late afternoon so there probably wouldn’t be anyone new coming in for a while.

                “Well if it isn’t Patrick the Barista.” Patrick nearly whacked his head on the counter. What th- Looking up, he made eye contact with _him_ , sitting at one of the small tables near the door. Patrick growled softly and pointedly turned to face a different direction. He heard a chuckle, then a chair scrapping against the floor and felt something brush his arm a few seconds later. He jumped, pulling away from the counter, only to see an empty coffee mug and a piece of paper. The door jangled a second later. All the paper said was a first name. Robert. He felt his face go red again.


	2. No Room For Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chartrand is such a cutie and Patrick needs to chill.

It had been two weeks since Robert had come in last, and despite him being a new customer who had only come in twice, Patrick was worried. Everyone knew it too, except his father. He hung out in the front more, and when he wasn’t actually helping Baggia he was pacing in the back, getting in the way. The only person who didn’t think it was vaguely hilarious was Richter, but no one really cared about his opinion. It was a Tuesday afternoon, so they weren’t busy at all.

                He was in the back helping Strauss clean dishes when he heard the door to the shop open.  He straightened, shooting a glance at the older man who nodded with a chuckle. In seconds he was in the front, slipping a little on the tile floor.

                “Well, I know I have been gone for a while but I was not expecting this kind of reception!” Patrick’s excitement waned a bit at the heavily accented voice. It wasn’t Robert. But it only took a second for him to perk up again.

                “Chartrand! You’re back in the States!” The man in question smiled widely.

                “Indeed I am!” Patrick moved around to the front of the counter, giving his friend a massive hug. Chartrand had decided to take a few months to go to Denmark and wasn’t supposed to have come back for a while.

                “Why are you back? Did something happen?” Patrick pulled away, holding Chartrand at arm’s length to look at him. Chartrand shrugged.

                “I got bored. I meant to call when I got to the airport but it must have slipped my mind.” The gleam in his eye directly contradicted his claim. He had definitely been trying to surprise them. “I am here now and that is all that matters.” He hugged Patrick again and then pushed him away playfully. “Don’t you have work to do?”

                “I’m the manager, I can do whatever I want.” He went behind the counter anyway, shaking his head at his best friend. “Now, what do _you_ want? The usual?” Chartrand leaned both his elbows on the counter.

                “Do you even remember my normal order? I have been gone a while.” He was kidding, Patrick knew.

                “I could never forget it. ‘Two shots of expresso, and five of caramel’.” He quoted, attempting to match Chartrand’s accent and failing. Chartrand snorted.

                “Exactly. Now get to it! Chop chop!” Patrick rolled his eyes.

                “When did you get so bossy? What happened to you over there?”

                “What do you mean? I’ve always been this way!” Patrick heard the scrape of a chair and knew that he would turn around to see one of the bar stools sitting next to the counter, Chartrand perched on it like he owned the place. He was right.

                “You know you’re not supposed to do that, right?” Chartrand shrugged, pushing his payment across the counter.

                “You love me. And you are not busy. So I will stay.” He looked so smug because he knew that Patrick wouldn’t do anything. Patrick just rolled his eyes again, turning back to the register. “So, Patrick, what have you been up to while I was gone? Did you meet anyone?” He waggled his eyebrows. Before Patrick could answer, Olivetti slid up behind Chartrand, leaning on the back of his chair.

                “Yes, actually. There is this professor who has come in a few times. Patrick is smitten, but he will not admit it. He does not even know the man’s full name. Look at him! He is blushing.” Patrick _was_ blushing.

                “Ernesto, don’t you have something you ought to be _doing_ right now?” he said through slightly clenched teeth. The two burst out laughing, causing Patrick to blush even harder. Baggia chose that moment to come back from his break, raising an eyebrow.

                “Do I want to know?” Patrick shook his head, but he was already being cut off.

                “We are just talking about Patrick’s crush.” Baggia nodded.

                “Ah, the professor? Yes, I wonder where he has been. It is good to see you, Chartrand! How have you been?” Patrick slipped away, going back into the kitchen, letting the animated voices fade into the background. He didn’t mind being teased, really, but it was just a bit close to home. And if they noticed it, then Robert must have noticed it too. Which was probably why he hadn’t come back. But he had left his name..? But not his last name. Just the first. Taking a breath, he left out the back. He needed a break.

 

                It wasn’t long before he heard the door open and sounds of someone coming down the steps to where he was sitting. He ignored them, waiting for them to speak as they lowered themselves heavily down next to him. They didn’t speak at first, pulling out a box of cigarettes and lighting one. He sighed, glancing over at the blonde.

                “You know those things will kill you.” Chartrand returned his look, shrugging.

                “Patrick,” he started, leaning back against the steps. “You know we are all just teasing, right? Are you okay?” Patrick sighed, averting his eyes. “Is it because he has not been back in? You should not worry about that, Patrick. I am sure he will be back.” Chartrand paused a moment, inhaling on his nearly forgotten cigarette. “And if he is not, then he is not worth your time. You deserve much better than that, and he would be crazy not to see anything in you.” Patrick looked up, a bit startled at the ferocity of his best friends words. If anything, Chartrand also looked startled, and a light blush dusted his pale cheeks.

                “Chartrand…” Patrick leaned over to nudge the other’s shoulder with his head. He really had no idea what to say in response to that, so he just settled for a simple “Thank you…” Chartrand nodded, sitting there for a moment longer before getting up and putting out his cigarette.

                “I should be going. But just… Do not worry so much, Patrick. It is not a good look on you.”

                And then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo sorry for the delay, school happened. :)


	3. Red Pens and Coffee Stains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red pens isn't a metaphor for anything I swear

The leaves on the trees outside were finally turning bright colours; their reds, yellows and oranges contrasting the typically gloomy sky. By Patrick’s calculations, it had been almost a month since Robert had visited. He had given up for the most part, which had been helped in part by Chartrand’s continuous presence at the café.

This particular Saturday saw Patrick at the counter once again. Baggia was out visiting his sister who had wound up in the hospital after falling down the stairs, so he didn’t mind covering. They were fairly busy, which was nice. Midterms were coming up at the university and some students were looking for a quieter place to study, even if it was a bit out of the way. Plus, the Vatican Coffee House had a better version of a pumpkin spiced latte then Starbucks did.

Patrick handed a chai latte to a stressed looking blonde girl, probably a freshman judging by the size of her backpack, and turned to help the next costumer before freezing in place. He was right there. _Right there._ Robert was next in line, staring down at his phone with a frown. Neither of them moved until the guy behind Robert in line gave an annoyed cough, jolting them both out of their reveries. Robert looked up and immediately smiled.

“Well if it isn’t Cambridge’s favourite barista.” Patrick could feel himself flush a little, and he fiddled with the edge of his apron.

“Robert…” He cleared his throat. “Just a regular black coffee?” Robert’s eyebrows went up a little.

“I haven’t been in for a month and he still remembers my order. You _are_ a good barista.” Patrick huffed, but he wasn’t mad.

“So, where were you? For that month?” He asked over his shoulder as he poured the mug of coffee. “I was worried you had forgotten about m- us.” Robert thankfully hadn’t noticed his slip, or at least didn’t show that he had.

“I took a group of students to Rome for a research project.” As he was speaking he pulled out the payment for the coffee and placed a five in the tip jar. “It was very informative, but unfortunately, now I need to grade thirteen essays.” Patrick winced, passing over the mug.

“Good luck with that.” Robert nodded.

“Thanks. Mind if I set up in the corner over there?”

“Go ahead, I just cleaned it up.” Olivetti appeared at the end of the counter, subtly indicating to Patrick that there was now a line of four people behind Robert. Patrick flushed a bit more, waving Robert on his way and getting to the next customer.

 

When there was a lull, Patrick slipped from behind the counter and made his way to the corner table. Robert had made an honest to goodness mess; papers spread out across the table, a healthy stack of pens, red, and more than a few coffee stains. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he slid into the chair across from the professor.

“You weren’t kidding about the thirteen essays.” Robert glanced up at him, snorting quietly before turning his attention back to the paper in front of him.

“No I was not. Luckily I got saddled with the juniors, so at least they can write. No offence, but reading freshmen papers makes me want to jump off a building.” Patrick clapped his hand over his mouth, smothering a laugh. Once he was sure he wouldn’t burst out laughing, he dropped it, biting his lip and staring at Robert.

“I’m sure they’re not _that_ bad, are they?” Robert just nodded, underlining a sentence as if for emphasis. “Well, I’m glad I’m not a freshman professor then.” Robert set down his pen, finally looking up at Patrick. He squinted, letting his eyes wander for a bit before nodding again. By this point Patrick was nearly blushing.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t last a day teaching college students. You don’t even like being called a barista.” At that Patrick rolled his eyes, playing at pushing away from the table. “No, don’t leave, don’t leave. I’m _sorry_. Here.” He pushed a stapled paper across the table to the other man. “You ever been to Rome?” Patrick quirked an eyebrow, pulling the paper towards him.

“A few times, why? Are you gonna make me help you grade?” Robert only stared at him, trying not to smile. “You’re kidding. That’s actually what you were-“ He cut himself off, trying not to laugh again. “Do you have a pencil? I don’t trust myself with a red pen.”

Just as Robert was reaching across to pass the pencil to Patrick, Olivetti came up to the table with a fresh pot of coffee under the pretence of offering Robert a refill. Both of the men sitting glanced up at him.

“Would you like more coffee sir? I just made a fresh pot, in case any of the new customers wanted any.” He punctuated that last part with a pointed look at Patrick, then glancing over his shoulder at the counter. There was indeed a few new students milling about, studying the menu and waiting for a cashier. Patrick sighed, trying to school his expression into something professional rather than the disappointment that he felt. He could have sworn he saw a flash of disappointment on Robert’s face as he stood up, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Uh, sure.” Robert said, responding to Olivetti’s question before turning back to Patrick. “Rain check then? There will always be more papers to grade.” Then he smiled, causing Patrick to glance away in order to maintain his professional look.

“Yeah, rain check. I’ll work on my red pen skills in the meantime.” Robert laughed at that, and the sound followed Patrick as he moved behind the counter.

 

Ten minutes after Robert left the shop, Olivetti dropped a crumpled, coffee stained napkin in front of Patrick. On it was a phone number, written in red pen. He felt himself blushing, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long! School is going hard and I have rehearsal six days a week ;v; BUT here is the update you've all been waiting for!


	4. Chapter 4

“Who are you talking to, Patrick?” The voice took Patrick by surprise, causing him to drop his phone onto his lap. He glanced up to where his father was looking at him from across the room, a frown on his face.

“What? What do you mean?” He hadn’t been doing anything suspicious, had he? He’d just been texting.

“You are giggling over there. Have you met someone?” Patrick paled a little, straightening his collar.

“No! No I haven’t met anyone. I’m just… texting Chartrand!” It sounded like a lie, even to him. “He’s back in the States, you know.” His father didn’t look convinced.

“Richter has told me that there is a professor that has captured your attention. Are you sure you are not texting him?” Patrick tried not to show his panic on his face as he shook his head.

“Of course not. He just teaches about religion. I helped him with his work at times at the shop. That’s all.” At that moment, he got another text. His father raised his eye brows. Patrick was sweating under his shirt. “I.. have to go. I told Chartrand I would meet him at the movies.” He stood up abruptly, shoving his phone in his back pocket and practically running out the door before his father could say anything else.

He hadn’t been texting Chartrand, of course. He’d been texting Robert.

After he’d gotten a few blocks away from the small apartment he shared with his father, he pulled his phone out again. He smiled at the text that popped up on the screen. Robert wanted to meet for lunch. Sending a reply, affirmative of course, he sighed, and called Chartrand. His father would be calling later to make sure that he hadn’t been lied to anyway, so it might as well not be a lie. Chartrand answered on the second ring.

“Hello, hello! If it is not Harvard’s favourite barista!” He sounded out of breath, which, though he smoked, was still a bit out of character for him.

“Chartrand? Are you okay? You sound a little-“

“I am fine! I was just jogging!” Patrick raised an eyebrow, leaning against a street lamp while waiting to cross the street.

“You? Jogging? That’s new. What brought that about?” He was more curious than he ought to be, but… what if this meant that Chartrand was seeing someone? As his best friend, Patrick decided he deserved to know.

“Well, um. I was thinking about what you said, what you keep saying. About smoking, and such.” Chartrand’s blush was just barely audible. “And well, I decided that I should do something about it. So I have cut back on cigarettes, and started jogging…!” Patrick blinked. Chartrand was doing this, for him?

At that moment, his phone buzzed against his ear, signalling a new text. It was probably Richard. He snapped out of his thoughts, not realising how long he had left his friend waiting for an answer.

“Hey, that’s really great, Chartrand! I’m proud of you! Oh! By the way, do you wanna see a movie tonight? I kinda told my dad I was going over to your place…” There was a short pause on the other end of the line.

“And you are going to be meeting Robert first, I am assuming?” Patrick didn’t notice the subtle change in the other man’s voice.

“Yeaaaaah. We’re meeting for lunch. You know how my dad is.” Before he could start rambling, Chartrand cut him off.

“Of course, I will go out with you tonight! Just let me know when you are free, and I will tell your father that you have been with me when he calls. Have fun with Robert, Patrick.” With that, he hung up. Patrick frowned, pulling the phone away from his ear to stare at it, before remembering Robert’s text.

_I hope you didn’t forget your red pen. I’ve got plenty of papers to grade today. :) – Robert_

His frown quickly turned to a smile and he pocketed his phone and hurried onwards.

 

The Tatte Bakery and Café was a quaint little place in Harvard Square. Patrick had never been there before, but it looked like the kind of place he would like to frequent. Immediately after he entered, he heard a voice calling his name. With a smile, he headed over to the small table in the corner where Robert was already sitting.

“Hey there! It’s weird seeing you outside of the coffee shop.” Robert laughed.

“I was just about to say the same thing. This place is in the same vein though, so I thought it was fitting.” He gestured vaguely at the room before pushing something across the table. It was a red pen. “I hope you didn’t think I was joking when I said I had things to grade.” Patrick snorted, pulling his chair around to Robert’s side of the table.

“I kinda did. Glad you had an extra pen, cause I don’t think I own one.”

They settled in, Robert with his espresso and Patrick with a small quiche. They made light talk, joking and laughing with each other. At one point, Robert stole a bite of Patrick’s quiche, starting a small fork fight between the two. Patrick almost spilled Robert’s coffee on a stack of tests, not that the students would have minded terribly.

An hour or so later, they were done. Patrick sighed, setting the pen down and stretching his hand. It had been a while since he’d held a pen for that long.

“Hey,” Robert said, drawing Patrick’s attention. “Thanks for helping. This would have taken me _hours_ to do alone.” Patrick smiled, resting his hand on top of Robert’s on the table between them.

“It wasn’t a problem. It was actually kinda fun, if I’m being honest.”

Returning the smile, Robert turned his hand, interlacing their fingers before tugging Patrick a bit closer, leaning across the bit of table that separated them. Patrick’s breath hitched, but before he could think too hard about it, he closed the gap, pressing his lips to Robert’s chapped ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I'm so sorry this took so long but I finished my semester! And did two shows so ! That's fun ;v; Here's a cute date.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry-not-sorry for the Exorcist shout out

The atmosphere at the coffee shop had never been as warm and bubbly as it had been the few weeks leading up to Thanksgiving. That probably had something to do with Patrick. He was almost glowing as he moved around the shop, even going so far as to be overly familiar with the customers. More and more people started coming, drawn in by the small business vibes and the rumours of friendly staff. Baggia was content to let Patrick work the front more often; he was getting too old for this anyway he said.

Robert had been coming in more and more often, most Tuesdays actually, especially now that midterm season was over and he had to start focusing on writing a final exam. Olivetti now knew more about the Illuminati than he had ever wanted to know, and Richter was actually starting to warm to the professor, which shocked them all.

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving was no different. Robert came into the shop shivering, pulling off his scarf and draping it over his usual table before approaching the counter. Patrick was working on two orders to go, so he smiled in greeting, wordlessly promising to get to him soon. He wrapped up the orders quickly, moving to the end of the counter.

“Karras and Dyer?” The men at the closest table stood together, the younger one taking his drink with a smile and quiet thanks while the other just nodded before they went out the door, walking far closer together than they probably should have been. Robert raised an eyebrow; watching them go before turning to Patrick with a questioning glance. Patrick just shrugged, already going about getting Robert’s order.

“We all have our secrets, don’t we?” Patrick said, pushing the mug across the counter and raising an eyebrow right back. Robert groaned quietly and grabbed the mug, giving Patrick the money.

“It’s far too early in the week for deep statements like that, Patrick. I get enough of it from my students.” He took a sip, humming quietly. “Speaking of my students, I’ve got more quizzes to grade if you’re free?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a request. Patrick nodded and slipped into the back, calling Baggia from his prolonged break to cover the counter.

By the time Patrick made it to the corner table, Robert had already started setting up, leaving an extra red pen at the seat next to him. They worked in silence for a bit, the only noise the scratching of the pens and the clink of Robert’s mug. Suddenly, Robert dropped his pen, looking directly at Patrick. The man in question blinked, making eye contact, a little confused.

“Patrick, what are you doing this weekend?” The question was clipped, almost sounding forced, as if… was Robert nervous?

“Well, Thursday I’m celebrating with my family, Friday I’m going out with Chartrand, as is our tradition.” He blinked again, finally understanding what Robert was trying to ask. “Oh. _Oh_. Oh I… I’m free on Saturday and Sunday…” Robert looked slightly relieved.

“Well then. Would you um –“ He was cut off by Olivetti, who reached _across_ the table to refill the empty mug, humming to himself. He ignored Patrick’s glare, trying not to crack a smile.

“Oh sorry, boys, am I interrupting something?” Patrick didn’t respond, deciding to kick Olivetti in the shin instead. Robert was bright red, staring at the table. Olivetti winced at the kick, having the decency to look at least a little apologetic. “Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” He scurried off, chased by Patrick’s glare. He sighed, glancing back over at Robert.

“I’m so sorry about that. What were you going to say?” Robert hesitated, glancing up to the front of the shop, but there was no one else around. Patrick silently cursed Olivetti, hoping he spilled coffee down his front. What Robert was going to say was really important, and even though he already knew the question, he needed Robert to say it out loud. With another deep breath, Robert spoke.

“Would you like to come to my apartment this weekend, then?” Patrick flushed, pulling Robert across the table into a kiss.

“Yes, of course. I would love to.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry that this is so late and so short. D: The next chapter will hopefully make up for it, and I promise it won't take me four months to get up ;v;

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO I don't know how far this lil story is gonna go but hey who knows it might go all the way ;)


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